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The autumn wind was filled with a lethal stillness, sweeping in massively, dispersing the smoke of the exploding clay tribulus, bringing with it the pungent smell of gunpowder. The roaring of the "gods" echoed in the wind for a long time, and the rich scent of blood also melded into the wind, as if from the world of the departed!
Xiulote's face was calm as he surveyed the battlefield before him.
In the second wave of bombardment, the Tarasco spear formation on the ramparts completely scattered, with hundreds of Samurai and Militia blasted to the ground. The Canine Descendants who had thrown the explosives were also panicked, trembling ceaselessly on the battlements. Moments later, the majority of the Militia, who had been knocked down, staggered to their feet, their ears ringing, completely devoid of the courage to fight. They fled in disorderly fear, howling chaotically, with wounds of various sizes, stumbling with terror-stricken faces toward the bottom of the fortress.